The summer season brings with it warmth, love, and an overall sense of cosiness. Isn't it a wonder that seasons are as relative as emotions are? While the world enjoys their summer, a girl loses her sanity and warmth on May 1st.

First of May - Emi Fujita

When I was small, and Christmas trees were tall,
we used to love while others used to play.
Don't ask me why, but time has passed us by,
someone else moved in from far away.

Now we are tall, and Christmas trees are small,
and you don't ask the time of day.
But you and I, our love will never die,
but guess we'll cry come first of May.

The apple tree that grew for you and me,
I watched the apples falling one by one.
And I recall the moment of them all,
the day I kissed your cheek and you were gone.

Now we are tall, and Christmas trees are small,
and you don't ask the time of day.
But you and I, our love will never die,
but guess we'll cry come first of May.

When I was small, and Christmas trees were tall,
do do do do do do do do do...
Don't ask me why, but time has passed us by,
someone else moved in from far away.

Well the only thing is that I haven't kissed your cheek and bid you goodbye. I hover between stability and breaking down.

I cannot understand why you wished me goodnight the night things ended. What goodness can come from a night without you?

I sorely miss you. Or do I? I can't separate missing you from missing the rigmarole of life with you. Watching the birds flit through the evening sky, walking down the streets with our fingers intertwined, checking my cell for your morning greetings, and calling every night to hear your voice. What was it I loved about you? I'm not sure I remember anymore now. The chill creeps into my bones, and the warmth is gone.

Do you think of me when you wake in the morning? Do you remember the times we held each other silently for hours? Do you remember our banter? Do you remember me?

A chasm fills the gap between us, and as far as winter is from summer, so is the distance between us. Circumstances taunt me every day. The rustle of the leaves at daybreak, the stolen glances of colleagues in love, and even the scent of your favourite doughnut wafting from the bakery near my place. The occurrences laugh at my solitary existence, and I look around the corner, waiting for you to appear.

You were gone 1st May. Gone from my life. Gone are the sweet snuggles we sneaked, gone is the scent of you on my clothes, gone is the feel of your palm in mine, and gone is your presence on this land.

Goodbye my love.